


Woozi Drabbles

by yawoozyalose



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Mad Scientist, Alternate Universe - Politicians, Alternate Universe - The Grim Reaper, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9407204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawoozyalose/pseuds/yawoozyalose
Summary: Series of shippy drabbles of Woozi and friends in wacky situations.





	1. Hard Work Paid Off

**Author's Note:**

> A mess of ideas with no rhyme or reason that I'll probably never get around to do a proper fic for, but like enough to upload here. The only tie is that they're all about Woozi.

Between Seungcheol and Jihoon only stood a pair of wine glasses placed directly on the bed and held down with hands tightly grasping the stems. Seungcheol brought it, something of a gift from his country even though he knew Jihoon wasn’t much of a drinker. It was also about a home comfort, and a little liquid courage.

“You know, Soonyoung called me the moment it leaked I was making a trip down here.” He sipped, a long one, a slow one. Home. Or maybe he got that feeling because his eyes were on Jihoon, he was never quite sure what he really belonged to.

“He thinks I’m extorting you,” Jihoon’s point of view sounded more like an observation.

“You know what he thinks of me.”

“Oh, I’ve seen the video.” Jihoon smirked. “Can’t believe they elected him. What’d he say?”

“He told me if he caught any whiff of me making business with you, sending money your way he’d put a trade embargo on us.”

“Ouch.” Jihoon bumped shoulders with Seungcheol, unusually playful of him but it had been a long time. “Well, you’re welcome to defect any time.”

“Tempting.” Seungcheol deadpanned, already at the point of pouring himself a second glass when Jihoon hadn’t even had a sip of the first.

“I’d set you up nicely here, maybe make up some bullshit position for you to feel important in or just set you up as my personal secretary.”

“It’s the sort of thing that sounds better in your head, I assure you.” He watched Jihoon take a single sip, only to set the glass aside on the nightstand. He occupied the small hand with a squeeze of Seungcheol’s inner thigh, a bit more painful than sensual.

“You waited a goddamn year to visit me, you bastard.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand how time consuming campaigning is.”

Jihoon hummed, snatched the wine glass out of Seungcheol’s hand and had set it beside the first glass on the nightstand. The hand lightened up, fingers loosened and beginning to fan while Jihoon propped himself up presumably for a kiss, only for him to stop by Seungcheol’s ear and whisper a, “The hard work paid off, Prime Minister.”

He couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely congratulated or mocked. That was something Jihoon was exceptional at, something that drove him crazy but with hot breath on that proximity to his ear he felt it stir in his loins.

He could forgive a little mockery. Turn the other cheek, as his people would say. Which he did, planting a kiss on Jihoon’s mouth. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until he was there again. He’d been so busy the previous year he hadn’t had time to long. 

Jihoon, every bit as cruel and selfish. Every bit as beautiful as the last time Seungcheol had him. He popped the topmost button, mouths linked in a heated kiss. He pulled Jihoon up onto his lap, tugged off button after button.

The problem came after sex. The problems always came after sex back from the very first time they lay together back in university days.

“You’re not sustainable.” Maybe Seungcheol drank too much, usually he’d have better sense in him than to voice his concerns.

“Talking about my sustainability.” Jihoon rolled his eyes. “If that’s the case, I’ll prioritize.”

“Then more people will starve,” Seungcheol found himself arguing. “Jihoon, your country can’t survive like this.”

Jihoon exhaled very loudly through his nose, sucked in another breath through his mouth and cast a sideways glance. “Are we going to talk about a country surviving? Your nation’s barely that, barely has its own identity. You can puff out your chest and pretend the role comes natural, but I see you fumbling every step of the way.”

At the digs, Seungcheol sat board straight and folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me I’m weak, Jihoon. Go ahead.”

“I don’t need to say it.” Jihoon reached over, dropped Seungcheol’s phone in his lap. “Your wife’s probably wondering why you haven’t called by now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite ideas. It was this whole world leaders AU idea, where every member of the group resembled a rather prolific ( infamous) current or recent leader with Jihoon and Seungcheol as the center of it.
> 
> It was supposed to be a massive drama about Soonyoung just on the cusp of declaring war on Jihoon's country. On Seungcheol's end it was him with plummeting polls while up for re-election, his wife discovering his affair with Jihoon and Seungcheol ultimately deciding whether losing his wife and political career was worth doing everything in his power to protect Jihoon (who is admittedly a horrible person and leader in this, though the idea of it was all of them were pretty bad in one way or another).
> 
> There were multiple reasons I didn't continue with it. First one being I don't have much by way of cultural sensitivity and I feel like it's pretty obvious what leader each member is more or less based off of. It's also a concept that would require literal hours of research that I just am not up to. At least not right now, but who knows in the near future.


	2. As You Outnumber Me

In total, Seungcheol had seven Jihoons. Two were tasked with making dinner, three asleep, one bathing and the seventh assisting Seunghcheol in the lab where another Jihoon was incubating in a glass tube floating within amniotic fluid.

“His vitals are excellent,” Seungcheol skimmed the report.

Every Jihoon was numbered, identified by a “tattoo” on their neck of their total attempted number regardless if they made it past incubation or not. The one assisting him, Jihoon 34, stared at the incubating Jihoon marked “40”.

34 tapped on the glass. Being his most recent success, 34 was the most new and curious of the bunch. “You think this one will make it? I don’t want to be the youngest anymore.”

Seungcheol smiled and ruffled 34’s hair. “It’s not all bad. When the next one succeeds I’ll have to give him most of my attention for a while until he acclimates.”

34 sucked air through his teeth. “Why not let 13 handle that?”

“Come here.” Seungcheol opened his arms, which 34 eagerly stepped into the embrace. Each Jihoon had developed their own personality and traits. 34 had become more affectionate than the others, requiring more physicality than the other Jihoons.

13 was his oldest, his first success. He was, by far, the sharpest Jihoon. He was the most serious, as well, even more serious than the man Seungcheol had talked getting DNA out of in order to start his clonings.

The following success was 18, who came with the curious need of sleeping at least twelve hours a day.

There were “the twins”, as the others and Seungcheol referred to. Seungcheol’s only subsequent successes, 21 and 22. Just like twins they’d developed their habits around each other, developed something of their own language and finished each other’s sentences. They were currently working in the kitchen, heard improvising music back and forth between each other.

25 was a quiet and observant Jihoon. Never the first to speak, but always the first with information the others didn’t know. He slept, but typically served as Seungcheol’s lab assistant with his knack for quickly absorbing knowledge.

29 was meticulous, essentially focused on keeping the house spotless and in order. With such a penchant for organization, he even organized the files on Seungcheol’s computer.

Most were lost during incubation, typically during the early stages but he’d lost a handful to sudden organ failure in the final stages. 25 was an oddity, surviving incubation but a week into his life his stomach had suddenly ruptured. Seungcheol was never great at surgery but he managed to save 25’s life. All the others had been perfectly healthy if they had survived incubation.

His mother worried for him, once visiting only to be tended to by seven copies of the same man. He wasn’t previously ashamed until she pulled him aside. “Seungcheol, you’re brilliant, but this is just crazy. You need to let him go.”

You need to let him go. He couldn’t even bare to release a clone of Jihoon from his embrace, let alone set the memory of his most involved love free.

It wasn’t like there was tragedy. After university, they found themselves offered jobs in completely different countries. With the money and cheap land, Seungcheol built himself the ideal home and lab while Jihoon was an ocean away producing music and working actively with musicians. Before they separated, he asked for several DNA samples claiming he’d use them for some research.

Cloning was startlingly simple, just factors out of his control impeding success until he had his first Jihoon after months of trying. He couldn’t stop after one, obsessed with his first success to make a household of Jihoons. He even had fantasies of filling townships, cities, entire countries of Jihoons.

There was a knock on the door during dinner, too late for it to be a package delivery. Perhaps a neighbor, Seungcheol excused himself from the table and answered and there was Jihoon, the soft black bowlcut he remembered now blond and parted. Face and body thinner than he remembered.

Suddenly, he felt very concerned on how he planned to explain seven Jihoons and an eighth incubating in his garage. He should’ve known better than to invite Jihoon in, but after they opened their arms and embraced each other, Seungcheol couldn’t help but open his home.

The youngest peeked from behind the wall, very audibly scolded by the oldest. Seungcheol locked his eyes onto Jihoon prime’s face, seeing the brows furrow but he didn’t appear to get a good look just yet. Good, as he’d rather Jihoon be seated.

He guided him to the couch, patted the arm rest. “Have a seat. I have a few people to introduce you to.”

Quietly, he ordered his Jihoons single-file out of the kitchen from oldest to youngest, each introducing themselves with their number while Jihoon prime looked horrified. Seungcheol had anticipated this, and at the end of the lineup he was bowing deeply while Jihoon prime grabbed him by either shoulder and had screamed in his face, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I ask him that every day,” 13 snorted.

Though Seungcheol paid him no mind. He sputtered trying to respond to Jihoon prime, looking for the words to explain how deeply the separation had actually impacted him. He realized a little too late he probably came off as a madman, so he promptly shut his mouth and pulled Jihoon prime into a tight embrace.

“Jesus fucking Christ, if I knew this was what you’d do-”

Stoking the fire, 13 continued. “You know he keeps saying we’ll all move to an island and become it’s only population?”

“Shut up for a second,” Jihoon prime snapped at his clone. 13 grumbled, but hadn’t said a word after that. “All of you can get out, I’d like to talk to Seungcheol in private.”

Seungcheol was quite surprised when the clones had all left for the kitchen. He hadn’t expected them to take orders from Jihoon. He saw a few heads peeping from the kitchen door, however, behind Jihoon’s back as his ex-boyfriend poked an accusatory finger into his chest.

“Where the hell do you think you get off cloning me without my permission?”

His eyes snapped back to Jihoon’s face. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Oh Jesus, Seungcheol. You couldn’t just find a new boyfriend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wew so this was based off of three ideas.  
> 1\. Electric Six's "Steal Your Bones". The title of this chapter is taken straight from a lyric.  
> 2\. Justin Roiland's House of Cosbys. Pretty much why each Woozi is a little different.  
> 3\. Seungcheol is basically a nicer Doctor Venture.
> 
> Though I had no end point to this fic. Besides the initial weirdness, it's boring to me otherwise and I just never wished to continue it.


	3. Death is an Old Friend

There wasn’t much that set Jihoon apart from a normal human. He felt, albeit to a decreased capacity. He was gifted with all human senses, able to switch them off when convenient. He tried not to linger too long out in public, as to not make it evident he had no needs that required to be met. His skin was cold to the touch, which if people brushed against him he’d pin it on poor blood circulation.

He was well known among many, but not intimately. Some weren’t quite sure of his existence while others were very well aware of his presence. Though he found the titles “Death” or “Grim Reaper” to be in extremely poor taste.

There was a misunderstanding of his work. He was a mere transporter of souls, guiding them to where they’d be cleansed of their memories and be sent out anew into another vessel. The vessels simply were not built to last, fragile and hopeless things that decayed with time. He’d tried divulging the secrets of life in previous centuries, but every attempt had failed tremendously and he’d essentially given up on trying to clear his name.

What he chose to do with his time was wait for a soul, a particular soul. It typically manifested itself in the body of a man, but had also been put in the vessel of woman its share of times. He typically forgot the lives an individual soul had led, but even when he forgot the stories of the soul, he remembered each of them. Every soul was distinct, burned with different intensities, or glimmered with different light.

The Gregorian Calendar had not been Jihoon’s favorite, but it had become so widely adopted he had no choice but to accept it. Modern conveniences made the transition easier. Around every quarter century or so a new soul would be created. Approximately three centuries after the implementation of the Anno Domini system, he’d transported a newborn soul to its first vessel.

Though he hadn’t truly connected with the soul until the man’s adulthood, where Jihoon attended a theatre production that involved the newborn soul. He wasn’t immune to the charm of humans, and it certainly hadn’t been the first time one had captured his interest.

They’d spoke afterwards, Jihoon curious about the man’s interpretations and sense of the character. They struck up an easygoing friendship, Jihoon involved in many aspects of that man’s life and development. Attending his marriage, meeting his children and ultimately attending his funeral before guiding the brimming soul for a cleaning. It was always a shame to wipe such a rich history.

It was rare he recounted with souls he’d connected with, only managing a few times by coincidence. Though if he hadn’t known better, he would’ve believed something compelled him back to that soul. In one lifetime, the soul was a king, powerful and benevolent who brought Jihoon into his council. Jihoon disappeared conveniently once that lifetime came to an end. One   
where the soul was a common whore, smart-mouthed and clever and never discouraged by all the ways that had gone wrong with her life.

Every lifetime, the world always changed in remarkable ways. During the 14th century it was a man who deemed himself unusual, deemed himself an insult to his God. It was the first time he laid with that soul, the man so guilty afterward he’d confessed and was sent to his death.

Though as time progressed, so did comforts and healthcare, where vessels were beginning to exceed life expectancy and allow the accompanying souls more time. Jihoon saw the world go from pockets of closed off civilization to one connected, harmonious in its chaos, civilization.

Keeping track of vessels became far easier. Jihoon, compelled to the same soul so many times, had simply decided to keep tabs on the bearer of the soul, helping himself to the ease and conveniences of recent technology.

This vessel’s name was Seungcheol. Jihoon had recently purchased an apartment beside the young man’s to spur their meeting. It happened sooner than anticipated, with Seungcheol knocking on his door with a humble gift of a jar of kimchi as a welcoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of this started because I tried to get a Sim to fuck the grim reaper.
> 
> All of this ended because I typically don't care for supernatural elements and tired of this too quickly.


	4. Bartender

It was an average Tuesday night, a little slow with mostly regulars populating seats. He spotted a few new faces, in particular one young man who just took a seat at the bar. Likely of age, Jihoon figured, but there was a curve to the smirk that gave him his doubts. When he asked for ID, he got the old, “Are you sure you’re old enough to work here yourself?” and while he forged a smile that looked more like a grimace he got the gentleman’s name. Kim Mingyu.

He handed the ID back. “What’ll it be?”

“What’s good?”

It was a recent birthday, kid probably hadn’t been to too many bars. All the same, Jihoon bit back a sigh. “What have you had that you liked?”

“Beer?” As if Mingyu wasn’t sure, as if he was asking.

So Jihoon poured a glass of domestic beer and placed it in front of Mingyu. “Enjoy.” It worked, shook him of the kid for a while before he was called for again.

“So what do you recommend for something a little more adventurous?”

Percocets and hard liquor. He didn’t voice it, instead took out a bottle of shit that tasted like shoe polish that only seasoned drunks ever ordered and poured Mingyu a shot. “This will get you going.” Straight to the bathroom to throw up. Once again, he didn’t voice it.

Mingyu had some sense in him. He smelled it first, frowned bitterly before he tossed it back. He coughed very loudly, body shuddered with the drink burning on its way down. Took everything in Jihoon not to crack a smile but he kept a straight face.

“A little too adventurous,” Mingyu rasped.

The kid was resilient, Jihoon would give him that. “That it for you?”

“I think I’ll just have another beer,” the younger man laughed.

Jihoon poured another glass, and just as he was about to turn and wash the glasses Mingyu spoke up.

“How long have you been bartending?”

“Over a year now,” Jihoon responded.

“How old are you?”

“Older than you.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“You got eyes.”

“Wow, you’re really trying to do everything to not get a tip, huh?”

Jihoon huffed. “I just don’t take kindly to people saying I look a little young.”

“Alright, forget young,” Mingyu smiled. “What if I called you handsome?”

“I’m sorry, are you trying to get me to tip you now?”

Mingyu laughed around the lip of his beer bottle. “I mean it. You’re good looking. I know this isn’t the gay part of town but I thought I’d bring it up. Hope I didn’t offend you.”

Jihoon hummed. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m in love,” Mingyu gushed, wiggling his head toward Jihoon. “You’re the man of my dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea is so boring. The more I look at it, the more boring it is.


	5. Mingyu's Shirt

He knew it was Mingyu’s shirt, but he grabbed it all the same and threw it over his shoulders before heading out to the airport. It was sort of just something he did, given his stature he was able to wear anything and disregarded the fact he swam in half of it. If a member protested he’d hand it back but Mingyu just didn’t have it in him to put his foot down.

Though he grew sort of thankful for it later. The sight of his hands completely swallowed by the sleeves was every bit of endearing. The flight was cold, and Jihoon looked cute huddled up in his shirt trying to keep warm.

He’d received it just hours after they got settled at the hotel. Mingyu roomed with Minghao and Soonyoung who both decided to stick to the game room in the hotel with many of the others and play a few rounds of pool. Mingyu was also later grateful for that, as a freshly showered Jihoon knocked on his door.

“Here’s your shirt, thanks.” Hair wet, still a little matted onto his forehead.

“No problem.” Mingyu wasn’t thinking when he grabbed it, brought the inner collar of his shirt to his nose and inhaled, scent of Jihoon sending a nice, warm feeling to the base of his cock.

And then he realized Jihoon was still in his doorway, had just witnessed Mingyu do that first hand and the larger of the two had decided very quickly there was no way of saving it so he just came forth with, “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You smell nice. Sorry again.”

Jihoon’s expression didn’t betray much of a reaction. He gestured ambiguously past Mingyu. “Mind if I come in?”

“No, I don’t mind at all.” One half of Mingyu was certain he’d be on the receiving end of a scolding. The other half of him seriously hoped he was about to get lucky with Jihoon.

Jihoon closed the door behind him, asked politely for Mingyu to sit on one of the beds. “Did doing that turn you on?”

It was probabl for the best that he lied, but Mingyu couldn’t bring himself to. Not to Jihoon. “Yeah, it did.”

There was a tug at the corner of Jihoon’s lips, a glimpse of a smile. Perhaps flattered, perhaps amused. Either way, things seemed to be going better than Mingyu anticipated so he ran with it.

“You like that?” Mingyu asked, not intending to be sleazy but the undertone came out. He liked that Jihoon was looking a little shy now, a small pair of shoulders hunched over at the question.

“I like what?”

“You like that you,” Mingyu’s mouth was running on autopilot, mind helpless in stopping him. “That you turn me on?”

Jihoon didn’t answer, probably couldn’t since he was so busy being wide eyed at the question. Mingyu would take his liberties, then. Jihoon was close enough for Mingyu to reach out and pull in. He wrapped his arms around the lower back, bringing Jihoon close to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this fic, I'm just tired of writing vanilla sex scenes and it's getting to the point where it seems like I write them all the same. So I just left it at this.


	6. Dressed to Kill

It’d been half a decade since Jihoon last attended a job interview. It was for supermarket cashiering. For this one, he received specific instructions on how his interviewer, market manager Choi Seungcheol, liked his interviewees to dress. A fitted, ironed white button-down. A pair of black slacks just a size too tight. A skinny black tie.

It was August, the weather hot and uncomfortable. A blessing, given his instructions.

It wasn’t enough to dress the part. He needed to be hired, and he needed to charm Seungcheol. When they met, Seungcheol had spared stares at Jihoon’s thighs. Jihoon used closing the door behind him as an excuse to turn around and get Seungcheol to have a good look at his ass.

The man was especially receptive after that, always a tint of a smirk to the lips. The office was warm, Jihooned popped the top button of his shirt and he didn’t miss the flicker of the man’s eyes. He interviewed well enough, though he figured that didn’t matter the way Seungcheol was looking at him. He received the call for the job offer a day later, his first day to start Monday.

Seducing Seungcheol was only a matter of when the office would go out for drinks, which was two days after Jihoon had started. Jihoon pretended to drink to excess, mostly pouring drinks out onto the floor or into other coworkers’ glasses. At the end of the night, he pretended he was too drunk to drive himself home and since the boss was on his way, asked if Seungcheol would drive him.

Seungcheol didn’t spare a moment in agreeing. Jihoon then mentioned something about wondering what Seungcheol’s apartment looked like and that’s how they ended up there, making out, Seungcheol immediately going for the ass and kneading it in his hands whispering how crazy seeing Jihoon in the office made him.

The plan was easy. Get Seungcheol to keep drinking. And drinking. And drinking. And drinking well past the point of human tolerance. He drank himself then, once Seungcheol was out cold. Just to make it look like he wasn’t in his right mind to stop Seungcheol.

When he awoke, Seungcheol’s face was in a puddle of his own vomit. He checked the pulse, the breathing. Nothing. He called the ambulance, well knowing it was far too late to save the man and Jihoon had gone home knowing he’d completed his task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be an OT13 ending with Jihoon killing all of them. But coming up with eleven more unique, semi-sexual assassinations proved to be daunting and I gave up lmao.


	7. Securing a Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey warning this one's kind of depressing and sexually exploitative.

It wasn’t a big deal, it was just another aspect of work. This one was a shareholder, an extremely wealthy and charismatic man who treated Jihoon well enough. He was a little over-affectionate, taking Jihoon in missionary because the other insisted on seeing his face.

The fingers caressing his cheek were a little much, but he grinned through it. He wasn’t so good at fucking but he gave a decent blowjob, always kind enough to finish Jihoon afterward and offer to treat him to a meal or an expensive present with Jihoon typically declined. That wasn’t his style.

Really, he did it because if he didn’t, someone else in the team would have to. The other twelve hadn’t the slightest clue what Jihoon did in so many ‘meetings’. Now and then Seungcheol would insist on joining and it would take the company president to talk him down from it.

It was a little unusual for him to be called to two “meetings” in one day. Not unheard of, but long after he’d returned and was spending time with his members again he was summoned. That earned a little of Seungcheol and Soonyoung’s attention, but he only dismissed it with an excuse.

This guy was an advertisement caster. Jihoon sucked him off under the table while the men above discussed what products they would get Seventeen on. At one point his John glanced underneath the table, patting Jihoon’s head. “You’ll be featured prominently.”

Jihoon wanted to grimace but forced a smile around the cock and continued sucking. He wasn’t greedy for his own spot in a soda ad, but he was happy enough that the members would be given such exposure.

Jihoon kept his own toothpaste hidden, one strong enough to get the taste of dick out of his mouth that he didn’t want the other members using. When pressed about his meeting, he explained he was tasked with composing the song for a potential upcoming ad featuring all of them. It wasn’t entirely untrue, their company president offered that Jihoon would make the jingle.

Less than a month passed before it was up on TV. Jihoon was the featured model for twisting the cap and taking a drink. He winked at the camera. It turned out well, along with royalties he received a padded bonus that hadn’t been previously discussed. He used it to treat the members to dinner.

The reach Seventeen had was absolutely impressive. Jihoon spent a night sandwiched between two rich foreigners, one a young Chinese entrepreneur and the other a self-made older Japan man. Neither were directly involved with Pledis in any way but they’d promised overseas promotions and pushing. Through the language barrier he learned the young man was the head of China’s most influential music chart. The older Japanese man was the CEO of Japan’s largest music distributor.

Jihoon was a celebrity amongst these types, according to the Pledis CEO.

“They always ask about you, you know. I can never repay you for everything you do.”

And Jihoon wanted to say “No, you really can’t” but he only bowed his head humbly. At the end of it it was just part of his job description.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one friend excited for this one. If I'm ever jazzed for it again, I may revisit it. I sort of lost steam on writing a more detailed version of this little write up.


	8. I Love You

“I love you.” Not that Jihoon knew, but he likened breaking out of Mingyu’s hold on him to breaking out of prison. He struggled in a tangle of limbs on the dance practice floor, the younger boy breathing on his head expressing his affection for what had to have been the tenth time that day.

“It’s hot, idiot. Let go.” Jihoon didn’t want to hurt Mingyu, but just pushing the buffoon off wasn’t enough. He kept his nails short but he dug them in as deep as they would go into the meat of Mingyu’s arm. With Mingyu retracting the arm, Jihoon was finally able to wriggle out and escape.

When Mingyu confessed, they’d been drinking. Drunk enough to dismiss it, but not enough to forget. So Mingyu played it off as a joke, the sort of drunk affection for any of his brothers but Jihoon knew better than that. He didn’t need dating experience to see it, to hear the weight to Mingyu’s words.

That was one week ago. The problem was he felt he needed the experience to address it properly. Forgetting the group, forgetting the rapidly growing fanbase, forgetting that he accepted twelve boys as his family, he didn’t know enough about himself to decide whether he could see Mingyu in that light or not.

Besides, if he ever decided so, that opened them up to a whole other world of problems. Pretending nothing happened was the safe decision. It reflected cowardly on both of them, but if it protected the other eleven then it was a decision that took precedence. There was nothing more important than Seventeen.

Jihoon stood, brushed himself off and straightened his tee. He spared a glance toward Mingyu through the mirror, the boy still sprawled out on the floor and giggling over having annoyed Jihoon. All things considered, Mingyu handled himself well afterward. Not one misstep, at least not one unusual for his brand of skinship.

It was only recently Jihoon had discovered his own sexual awakening, had developed a taste for pornography instead of indiscriminately clicking on links based more on curiosity than arousal. Now he knew what he liked, developed patterns to satisfy himself properly. Mingyu, he decided, fit nicely enough in fantasies in the right context. 

Practice resumed. Jihoon abandoned his thoughts for the remaining hour until the group was dismissed and the producer holed himself up in the studio where he could be blessedly alone with his thoughts. 

It was obvious enough to him why Mingyu had been in his thoughts more recently since the confession. He groped himself lazily over his sweats, thought about how eager to please Mingyu would be.

Though Mingyu was too good to be used, least of all by the likes of Jihoon. And if Jihoon hoped to pride himself on his self control he decided it was best to take his hands off himself and stop indulging in purely selfish what ifs.

It was funny the others dug at his prudishness, if only they knew what he had to stop himself from thinking.

()

“I love you.” This time, Mingyu had said it after Jihoon bought the group sodas. A chorus of grateful “I love you”s from eleven other mouths followed after Mingyu set the precedent. 

And while the others went about their duties while drinking their sodas, Mingyu beamed stupidly at being the cause of such a chain reaction.

Mingyu was like a dog, Jihoon found. Elated by any implication of affection, easily infected by excitement. Jihoon fought a smirk when his thoughts flitted over ‘eager to please’.

Jihoon often hadn't many chores around the dorm given his other workload, and Mingyu was only ever really expected to cook and do dishes so they sat quietly at the table drinking their soft drinks while the others flurried about with their respective chores. 

It’d been a month now since Mingyu's confession, and Jihoon had given it time to let it stew. He was tired of Mingyu pretending. He was tired of battling inappropriate thoughts of his very vulnerable groupmate who deserved far better. “Why do you love me?” Jihoon asked only when he was sure they were out of earshot. 

Mingyu looked stunned, but only briefly as if he’d given the question thought before. “Any way you look at it, Hyung, how could I not?”

Interesting, if only because Jihoon didn't understand. But he nodded as if he did, anyway. 

()

“I love you.” Now that Jihoon acknowledged he knew the truth, Mingyu was far less shy about expressing it. He’d expected the opposite. This time it came as a quiet whisper before being ushered on stage for a comeback promotion. 

Seven weeks since the original confession. Jihoon always believed time would fill in the gaps, but he still couldn't figure out what it was that Mingyu liked about him.

It wasn't that Jihoon disliked himself. He just didn't understand what the fuss was when he did literally nothing to warrant the feelings except exist. He thought of his mother explaining there was “someone for everybody” and how foolish he found that to be yet here was the universe giving him just that. 

Someone for everybody. Thinking about it just made Jihoon grin. What would his mother think of Mingyu?

()

“I love you.” Jihoon’s birthday, a neatly wrapped present being held out toward him. There was nothing Jihoon wanted that he couldn't have already bought for himself (short of a car), but he still felt a thrill in receiving it. 

He opened it, finding a small bluetooth midi controller to work with his phone. “In case you ever have an idea on the go,” Mingyu explained almost bashfully. Which there was no need for, as for nearly the same tag line was written on the box. Mingyu was nervous. 

“Thank you.” Jihoon smiled, stretched his fingers so they brushed over Mingyu’s in what he hoped would be taken as a friendly gesture.

()

Hearing Joshua explain the magic of American Christmases was hypnotizing, the talk of his childish interpretation active and jubilant. Hansol chimed in with what he could remember, or what his mother told him.

American Christmases just seemed like any other gallant and showy event in the country, but Mingyu was completely engaged and enamored by all matters of the music, long running Christmas specials, the hustle and bustle of the shopping and everything in between. 

Though one thing stuck with Jihoon. “It’s the thought that counts”, and Jisoo brushed on it only briefly before almost immediately divulging into another aspect of the holiday season. Jihoon didn’t allow himself to forget, finding Jisoo later and asking for an explanation of the motto to make sure he didn’t misunderstand..

“Well,” Jisoo started. “It’s sort of like, the idea of Christmas isn’t to get someone something. Most of the time the people you’re buying for are able to get that thing on their own. But it’s to let them know you thought about them, and that they were important enough to you to warrant it.”

And in the weeks leading up, Jihoon brought Mingyu outside. Cold, they’d stopped and Jihoon paid for two hot coffees. Mingyu thanked him with another cheery “I love you” as they walked back out to a chilly Christmas night.

“I’ve been thinking about what to get you for Christmas,” Jihoon brought up after they had a block behind them.

“Oh?” Mingyu hummed behind his cup. “Did you get me something nice?” He asked in an eager, but sweet sort of way.

“I'm giving you my thoughts on what you've been telling me the past few months.”

Mingyu stilled abruptly, Jihoon walking several paces before he realized his groupmate was no longer beside him. He turned.

“Hyung, before you continue, can you tell me if it's something I'll be pleased about?”

“It will be. At least, I think it will.”

Mingyu's mouth curled into an anticipatory, nervous smile. “Should we keep walking?”

“Sure.” They continued on, side by side. Jihoon had given several days thought to what he was going to say, words nearly rehearsed. “It’s hard thinking about this sort of thing without being pulled one way or another. It’s hard to stay objective when I have to think about what this means for the group as a whole.” He hoped he didn’t sound too robotic. He saw Mingyu nodding repetitively in his periphery. “So, if we want to make something work, I can’t keep it from the others.”

Mingyu laughed suddenly, Jihoon nearly startled as he hadn’t prepared for the other speaking. “You never do anything half assed, hyung.” Mingyu took his arm in his. Feeling a little daring, Jihoon allowed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet, cute little story that I just sort of left hanging. So sugary it makes me want to vomit lol.


	9. Cusp of Something

They were on the cusp of something. Jihoon and Seokmin had been spending a lot of time together at that point, Seokmin’s bright energy a nice complement to Jihoon’s more calculated seriousness. They meshed well together, holding conversations either could stand to learn something from which kept them both engaged.

Most recently, though, Jihoon’s eyes were opened to just how close they had become. They had been watching an American film, starting on nearly opposite ends of the couch but the cold dorm pulled them closer together until Jihoon’s legs were stretched over Seokmin’s lap. Of course he thought nothing of it until a scene where a woman’s bouncing, naked breasts came into view. The camera zoomed out, catching a man’s bare ass thrusting into her.

He hadn’t really thought about it, not when he watched porn alone but his breath pattern shifted. He had hoped Seokmin wouldn’t notice then, but in turning his mind onto the other he noticed Seokmin’s breathing was audible, a little laboured.

He turned only to see that Seokmin was staring himself. He’d expected Seokmin to turn away, but when the other gaze hadn’t even shifted he planned on turning away himself. But he was stilled by a little curiosity, Seokmin’s face coming closer to him.

They both started when they heard the rattle of a door, separating to different cushions as Soonyoung and Chan came in and greeted them and went along their way. When Jihoon turned back toward the television the scene had already changed.

That was it for that night, occasionally sparing glances when he thought the other wasn’t looking but Jihoon was certain he was caught a few times. He hadn’t planned on bringing it up and it seemed that Seokmin didn’t either.

Even if he kept up the pretense of being serious and hardworking, keeping the studio door locked earned him his share of questions and accusations. The brunt of them on point, not that he’d ever admit it. Being alone that often, unsupervised with a computer gave him the time to learn to cover his tracks when he looked for new material to masturbate to.

Seokmin’s face in his head. Done with his session, he cleared any data and turned off his proxy before shutting the pc off for the night.

What really shook him was stepping out of the studio early to go back to the dorms, under the assumption that the rest of the group was still attending their respective lessons in the company building.

He heard noises, like grunts. Jeonghan’s specifically, he’d heard them a lot when the other grunted in frustration over his voice cracking while struggling to hit a note. He was going to ignore it as he walked by, but the door was open a crack and he peeped in.

He wasn’t surprised by what he saw. Jeonghan on his hands and knees, Seungcheol sheathed in him with a few careful, quick thrusts before a breath and pounding Jeonghan harder. Again, none of it had surprised him but what shook him was how suddenly hungered he felt watching it.

He didn't know what he wanted. If he wanted to jump in and join, wanted to be fucking or wanted to get fucked. The nervous stir in his stomach of possibly getting discovered tore him from the doorway and he shut himself in his room toying with the idea of masturbating but overall decided against it. He didn't need a groupmate suddenly storming in on him.

But he thought of Seokmin, of almost being kissed and if Seokmin wanted to kiss him he probably was sexually interested. It made sense at the time, rang clear in his mind that if he wanted to pursue and sate a curiosity he needed Seokmin.

So he waited, until they had a night where they were mostly alone at the dorm, finding themselves where they were previous weeks. Watching a movie on the couch, this time Jihoon’s pick and one rife with sexual themes based on reviews he read. 

Though that time Seokmin hadn't been inching closer, so impatient and self-assured Jihoon asked more frankly. “Hey, were you going to kiss me the other night?” Off the cuff, in case he was wrong all along and would dismiss it with a ‘my bad’.

There was a stretched moment of silence, essentially confirming Jihoon's question but Seokmin followed up with an honest, “Yeah. Sorry.”

He looked over, Seokmin's eyes glued to the floor. Jihoon reached over, squeezed the shoulder. “Don't apologize. I want you to kiss me.” When Seokmin looked up, Jihoon smiled to reinforce it.

“Oh.” It took a second for Seokmin to really internalize the admission. When he did, he wore a look that screamed more scared than flattered. Something Jihoon would’ve found funny if he hadn’t felt the same thing himself. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon affirmed, trying to sound light and casual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After having this sit in my Docs for this long I figured I'm not going to finish it.


	10. Lapdance

It wasn’t like Jihoon to drink that much. He was very aware he was pushing it, but the times at the dorm were light and enjoyable and he wasn’t ready to put a brake on his fun. He was usually a pretty collected drunk, maybe a little quick to anger but aside from being snippy he kept his shit together.

If he could pin the blame on anything, it was the choice of music. Sensual, but rhythmic. Soonyoung had already been trying to encourage the other members to dance and Jihoon had been the only one to take him up on the offer. That spurred a small competition between them, one of Seungcheol’s stupid ideas. Whoever had the sexiest dance would win a particularly expensive bottle of soju.

Soonyoung did sexy well, but Jihoon couldn’t afford to be discouraged with his eye on that soju. So he watched, studied and planned a way to one up Soonyoung’s body rolls. Jihoon gyrated his hips excessively, thrust his crotch into the direction of the judges. The next round followed with Soonyoung suggestively grinding against the floor, so Jihoon decided he needed to be a little underhanded if he wanted that soju.

When his turn came, he’d started playfully at the buttons on his shirt. That earned a few whoops from the ‘audience’. He’d completely unbuttoned his shirt at the end, and was ready to receive his prize until Soonyoung jumped in with a show of removing his belt, jerking his hips and touching himself over his clothes.

The group was loving every second of the debauchery, encouraging Jihoon by asking how he planned to top it. He really had to put some thought into it, thinking about what he’d seen in movies until he got the idea to call for a volunteer. The group had thrown Seokmin up, and Jihoon grabbed a chair and instructed for Seokmin to have a seat.

He’d seen lapdances in his share of western films, figured rubbing his ass around Seokmin’s legs would be worth it for the bottle of soju. He was perfectly aware he could’ve bought his own, but there was a compelling allure to winning it in a dance competition against Soonyoung.

Things had really taken their turn then. Jeonghan had decided to make the switch to an overtly sexual RnB song, and before any dancing had even begun Seokmin laughed bashfully. The whole room erupted his cheers when Jihoon plopped his ass down on Seokmin’s lap and grinded. He didn’t even know if he was doing it right, but the reaction encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing.

Feeling Seokmin hard against his ass had only partially registered. He only really caught on when he realized how weird Seokmin was acting, posture stiff and laughter so unnatural it gave Jihoon pause and a moment to figure it out.

So Seokmin was turned on. By him, by his dance, by grinding his ass against his crotch, Jihoon couldn’t be quite sure but he ran with it, a little flattered himself. When that song came to an end and Jihoon was about to stand up properly, Seokmin had suddenly held him against his lap.

It was rash, still plenty stupid but perhaps a little better than standing with an evident erection after what was supposed to be a joke lapdance. Jihoon understood why it was all he came up with.

Soonyoung had relented, giving Jihoon the win and presented bottle of soju to Jihoon and the party resumed as it had been with the brunt of them not quite noticing Jihoon hadn’t left Seokmin’s lap. However, the only sober one among them, Jisoo, had kept his eye firmly on Jihoon and Seomin.

Jihoon had noticed. Seokmin hadn’t. He’d given up on willing his boner down, instead thrusting up into Jihoon’s ass which Jihoon was sure Seokmin thought he wouldn’t notice. And it seemed Jisoo was watching them now. And as terrible as it could have ended up, Jihoon’s curiosity kept his mouth shut, allowed Seokmin to dry hump him and allowed Jisoo to silently witness it. Hell, Jihoon was starting to get aroused, himself, but a propensity for oversized clothes allowed him to hide it.

Though maybe he didn’t have to. He tested the waters with a smile, received one from Jisoo in return which confirmed that Jisoo was indeed interested in what was going on. Jihoon started mouth words, making relevant gestures to get the point through from across the room. “I can”, Jihoon pointed to himself. “Unzip,” he made the motion of undoing a zipper. “Him.” and pointed to Seokmin.

He had to repeat twice for Jisoo, who struggled with reading lips until he finally understood and with wide, curious eyes and sort of shaky smile he nodded and moved to where he’d get a better view.

Jihoon laid back against Seokmin’s chest, close enough to the ear for the young man to hear him over the music. “I know what you’re doing.” Seokmin stopped abruptly with his movements, but Jihoon reassured him with a pat on the thigh before reaching back and palming Seokmin through denim.

Seokmin had become a little more desperate then, rubbing up against his hand. It made it a little difficult for him to get a good hold on the zipper, but he managed, pulled that down first before going for the button and popping it. He looked over, watched Jisoo who had his eyes locked on the scene.

Feeling Seokmin’s cock hot and hard in his hand was wild, Jihoon squeezing almost experimentally, seeing how it felt compared to his own. He wiggled it a little playfully, just to acknowledge Jisoo and started jerking Seokmin off.

Since Seokmin was lost, Jihoon kept his eyes scanning across the room, ensuring no one else would discover them. It seemed everyone was distracted except for Jisoo, who now waved Jeonghan over. A part of Jihoon knew it could only escalate after that, but he was excited, eager to see how it’d unfold if he continued unfettered.

He watched as Jisoo pointed in their direction for Jeonghan, who seemed to search for a moment before spotting it and mouth stretching into a hilarious gape before settling into a much more fascinated smirk. They said something to each other briefly, then the pair turned back to face the him and Seokmin.

Unfortunately, their discreet stint in exhibitionism and voyeurism hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. Though perhaps it wasn’t quite discreet. The last of the eldest had noticed his other friends engrossed in whatever they were looking at and had come up behind them only to catch sight of Jihoon jerking Seokmin off. His response was a colorful array of expressions until he broke out into a defeated smile and joined the voyeurism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just couldn't commit to writing a full on orgy. maybe one day


End file.
